I need to complain about something for just a minute. At the residence hall where I live, the dumpsters for garbage and recylcable paper are placed in one of the bike sheds. In the bike shed, specifically, where I park my bike. Other than having to endure a smell of garbage whenever I want my bike, this arrangment works fine. Only lately, the paper hasn’t been picked up like it’s supposed to be, and people have been leaving shopping carts full of the stuff in the middle of the shed, making it impossible for me to get my bike out. Normally I’d go complain to the guy that runs the place, but he’s on vacation. So I have to take the bus. I hate taking the bus to school, because first I have to walk ten minutes, then take a twenty-minute bus ride, then walk another ten minutes before I’m finally at the building I’m supposed to be. If I go by bike, I’m there in fifteen minutes. And I happen to like biking in the fresh air (and sometimes sun). Besides, buses cost money, and I’m a little short this month.

Oh well. On the cosmic scale of things, a locked-away bike isn’t much to complain about.